


Laundry Day

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Sokka (Avatar), Fluff, Gen, No one kisses, Pretty boy doesn't know he's pretty, Sorry Not Sorry, These ships are stupidly slight, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Shortly after rescuing Suki from Boiling Rock, Katara introduces her to the spectacle, the magnificence, that is Zuko doing laundry with his shirt off.Sokka has to explain to Zuko why the girls are even watching him.  Zuko is remarkably slow on the uptake.  Poor Sokka.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 303





	Laundry Day

It was two days after being broken out of prison that Katara greeted Suki at dawn and grabbed her by the hand. “Today is a very important day, Suki, and I need you to be a part of it with me.”

Katara looked like she was either about to pull a huge practical joke or she’d uncovered an ancient secret that solved all their problems. “Oookaaaay? I don’t have any plans?”

Katara bounced. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been waiting for there to be another girl on Laundry Day. I mean, one who can see. Come on!”

Laundry day? Suki shook her head. She pulled her prison tunic away from her skin and gave it a surreptitious sniff. Oof. Whatever was special about laundry day, it had come none too soon. Katara led her by the hand, up some stairs to a little protected ledge around a tower room with large windows separated by columns. Toph was already there, swinging her feet over the edge. “Hi Suki, Hi, Katara. Happy Laundry Day.” Toph said this with a mocking shake of her head.

Suki sat next to Toph. “What’s going on? What’s the big event?”

Toph shrugged. “Zuko does the laundry. It’s supposedly very fascinating. Me, I don’t see it. Literally. Katara doesn’t even LIKE Zuko.”

“This is not about liking,” Katara said firmly. “This is a beautiful work of nature on display and I finally have someone to share the experience with.”

Katara pointed below.

They were seated just above and to the left of another balcony, where, sure enough, lines had been strung for laundry, and a no-doubt-once-decorative basin was full of water. “We’re going to watch someone do laundry? I mean, even if it is funny to imagine our former nemesis, Prince Zuko as the local—oh. OH. Never mind, I understand completely.”

Zuko had come into sight, carrying a large basket piled with clothes, and he was shirtless. Gloriously shirtless. I-had-no-idea-that-was-under-there shirtless. 

“Still don’t get it,” Toph said, “But I enjoy listening to Katara lose her mind.”

“It gets better,” Katara whispered, crouching to study the scene seriously.

The basket set aside, Zuko started firebending. Yes, that was very nice with the no shirt and no basket in the way, but Katara’s expression hadn’t changed, so somehow this wasn’t the good part. Zuko kept a steady, frankly mesmerizing rhythm going, keeping a ring of fire around the edge of the tub for a few minutes until a steam started to rise. Ah. Steam. Yes, that improved the view considerably. Then he dismissed the flames and dumped the clothes into the basin. And then, praise be to all the ancestors, he started to SCRUB. Water and suds were splashing, hitting him, and more importantly trailing down every line and curve of flesh.

Suki relaxed against the wall behind her and clapped slowly. “This is … thanks, Katara. I’m glad to be a part of this.”

“My favorite part is actually the hanging up.” Katara marveled, then cleared her throat and assumed a poor copy of a stern expression. “I mean, I do still hate him.”

“Oh, same. Burned my village. Okay, also rescued me from prison. It’s not quite even? I’m at about half-hate. But I do not hate this view.”

Zuko twisted a shirt, squeezing the water out, which made his arms all taut and ropey. That, she had to say, brought it down to 40% hate.

Then, he hung it up, and reaching high overhead like that threw everything into such sharp relief, and there was TWISTING of the torso as he adjusted the edges so it hang fully spread out. “Ah, I see your point Katara. Yes, that is nice.”

“It’s good to appreciate beauty in all its forms,” Katara declared with a raised finger, like she was a sage lecturing. They both laughed.

“I hope I don’t get this hopeless when my hormones kick in,” Toph said. “Boys are all right if you want someone to fight alongside or steal things with, but I mean, no more than girls are.”

Suki decided to turn the conversation back to more pressing matters. “He must do a thousand pushups a day. My old trainer would love him.” 

“At least! I haven’t found out where he exercises yet.” Katara cleared her throat. “Uh … Not that I’m looking.”

“I’ll help with the not-looking. Still, knowing him, he probably keeps his shirt on, anyway.”

“Yeah. He never takes it off to teach Aang.” They both sighed in disappointment.

***

Sokka saw his sister up on the ledge again and knew it must be laundry day. But then he saw Suki with her, and looking just as DELIGHTED. Oh. Oh no. That was a bridge too far. This little ritual was going to have to stop. Sokka stormed down to the lower balcony and there was Prince Hot Stuff, all wet and flexing and working, that effort, the violent, repetitive motion … wow.

Sokka looked down at his own arm. He made a fist. He shook his head. So maybe he could do a few more training reps a week. Okay, back on mission. “Hey, sparky! Let up a minute. That shirt knows what it did wrong, and I think it’s suffered enough.”

Zuko turned to frown at him. Okay, so the side view was also impressive. He … should stop thinking about it. Anyway, Zuko had gone back to rinsing the shirt and wringing it out and that was the whole problem. Sokka took a firm grip on his belief in himself as completely straight and walked up to Zuko. “You’ve got to stop. Seriously, with the glistening and the dripping suds and the flexing, ESPECIALLY the flexing.”

Zuko looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that!” Sokka pointed up at the ledge.

By the time Zuko turned his head, Toph was sitting there alone. Wow, could Suki and Katara move fast when they wanted to.

Zuko turned back to Sokka, eyebrow raised. “Toph?”

Sokka put his arm around Zuko’s (muscular, bare, steamy—don’t think about it) shoulders and led him away from the dangerous suds. “Suki and Katara were up there, too, watching.”

“I know. Katara always watches me do the laundry. It’s about power. She likes putting me to work.”

“That is NOT what this is about, and when the clue finally lands you are going to be so proud of me for not making the obvious joke on ‘putting’ things to people and …” Sokka groaned. It was simply unfair to be handed material like this. Why did humor and wrongness have to go so well in hand? “WE ARE TALKING ABOUT MY SISTER.” Sokka took a step back and released a quick breath. Despite the shout, Zuko was just staring at Sokka like a confused turtleduck.

Sokka cleared his throat. “Let’s ask a completely unrelated question. No reason at all, but, have you ever noticed people acting differently around you when you take your shirt off?”

Head-tilt, deeper frown. “No. Why would they?”

“You’re going to make me say it. Out loud. Ugh. Zuko! You are … nnghhh…. very attractive.”

Zuko took a step back. “Are you mocking me?”

“No, it’s the irritating truth. You are scrambling the brains of two intelligent women with the very existence of your chest.” Sokka gestured emphatically at the offending hotness. “HOW do you not know this?”

Zuko looked back up at the ledge, where Toph waved and Suki and Katara could just be seen, peeking out from behind different columns. Zuko shook his head. “That’s not it. They’re gloating over me having to do a lot of hard work.”

“I regret to inform you IT is very much IT, and I’m asking you, as a friend, as a compatriot-in-arms, as a man who has a girlfriend, please put your shirt back on.”

Zuko gave him this amused smirk and pulled his wet shirt out of the laundry and slithered into it. Two squeals of feminine delight rang from overhead. Sokka thought his head would explode. “NO YOU IDIOT! THAT’S WORSE!”

Zuko threw up his hands. “I don’t know what you want. Is this a test? Are you trying to make me angry?”

Up on the ledge, Katara and Sukki had come out to study and discuss Zuko’s clinging shirt like it was a very important matter of philosophy. Toph was gripping her gut from laughing. 

“Give me strength. Let’s start over. Zuko, man, buddy, just trust me on this one as an impartial outside observer with no reason or, really, desire to compliment you: you are very good-looking.”

Zuko’s reply to this was to deadpan and wave his hand up and down over the scarred half of his face. 

“Yeah, fine, the scar is NOT your best feature, but they aren’t looking above your chin, buddy.”

OH. That landed. Zuko’s eyes widened a fraction. He looked up at the ledge again. Suki waved. Katara dove for cover. Toph was rolling with laughter.

Zuko seemed to be really thinking, at last. Come on, fire brain, put some facts together in a line… He pulled the wet shirt away from his skin. “I … I do have to wash this. I don’t have another shirt.”

“We’ll get you a second one, first chance we get. For now, maybe, I dunno, wash it first and firebend it dry?”

With a nod, Zuko held his arms out and a steam rose from the shirt, the clinging folds dropping from his form as the color lightened.

“I’m going to kill you, Sokka!” Katara shouted.


End file.
